


the cover of night

by tal_5



Series: harry potter/hogwarts au [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Magic, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24136495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tal_5/pseuds/tal_5
Summary: Virgil's visions have never been so clear and, though the unsorted student can't decide what to do, Janus has seen Umbridge at her worst. He can handle it.Alerting the Order is necessary and if Virgil is unsure of how to do so, or is afraid to do so (for very good reason), then Janus supposes he can help out. Just this once.Umbridge's office is empty, after all.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Series: harry potter/hogwarts au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741744
Kudos: 19





	the cover of night

**Author's Note:**

> in this story ‘Anubis’ or ‘Critic Guy’ is taking the spot of Sirius
> 
> also, you can learn more about where the sides are sorted on my tumblr, unless I find a way to format it differently, as right now it's a bullet fic

She comes out of nowhere.

Usually, Virgil’s visions are blurry and vague, but the image of Anubis jolting and lurching, sharp cries spilling from his lips, is too clear. His rare vulnerability has them so spooked that they can’t possibly ignore it.

Janus originally insists on Logan staying back with Patton, hoping to contact the Order on his own. But, ever the Gryffindor, Patton refuses to leave him. And Logan, in an honestly unsurprising twist of events, heads up to Umbridge’s office with them. It seems that, despite his desperate need to follow rules, Logan can make exceptions.

Kneeling in front of the fireplace, Janus barely spares the pair a glance as he instructs them to alert the Order of Virgil’s vision, but of course, Logan steps in with his typical knitted brows and stony frown.

“Are you mental? We’re going with you.”

Despite how funny that sort of casual language sounds in Logan’s voice, Janus can’t find it in him to be amused and only sighs. “It’s too dangerous.”

Patton makes a throaty sound of frustration before crouching down beside him, trying to meet his gaze. “When are you going to get into your head,” he says, ignoring Janus’ obvious attempts to avoid his eyes, “that we’re in this together?”

The room is silent for only a second before a familiar shrill voice speaks from the doorway. “That you are.”

Janus barely has the strength to struggle as he’s tied to a chair, watching as Patton and Logan are held back by several Slytherins, some faces he recognises. Nate, for example, is attempting to stifle a grin as he holds Logan’s arms behind his back.

He scans the room, pushing down hot, bubbling anger as Patton wriggles uncomfortably in the Slytherin student’s grip.

Before he can say anything, however, Janus feels his chin being harshly tugged to face forwards. Umbridge stands there, an expression he can’t gauge on her face. The corners of her mouth are pulling up into a smile, but her eyes are gleaming with hellfire.

“You were going to Dumbledore, weren’t you?”

Janus steadies his gaze

“No.”

Suddenly, pain explodes through his cheeks, sparks of electricity shooting down his jaw and up to his eye. He imagines, for a moment, the shape of a star.

He turns back to her, breathing shallow in an attempt to avoid inhaling the unpleasant minuteness of her breath. But she doesn’t shift. She barely even blinks.

Refusing to display anything but indifference in her presence, he merely frowns, chest aching as he ignores the horrified mutterings from Patton beside him. Out the corner of his eye, he watches Logan’s gaze flicker cautiously between himself and Umbridge; for a second, he wonders whether wizards have the power to make it so looks can actually kill.

“Liar,” she hisses.

A second voice interrupts her interrogation so abruptly, Janus can physically feel his composure crumbling away. It’s a dark voice, low and sharp. A voice they know too well.

“You sent for me, headmistress.”

Umbridge smiles stiffly, though Janus is unsure as to whether her expression can technically count as a smile, her expression tense but her features vaguely trembling with tiny-veiled rage. “Snape! Yes, the time has come for answers, whether he wants to give them to me or not.”

She paces a few steps, focusing her deceivingly blue eyes on Snape as she continues. “Have you brought the Veritaserum?”

“I’m afraid you’ve used up my stock interrogating students,” Snape says, suppressed contempt smoothing out his voice like a hot iron, “the last of it on Mr Faraday.”

He pauses, likely for the dramatic flair, as Janus isn’t fooled by his ‘tall, dark and existential’ facade. “Unless you wish to poison him,” he continues and, despite the circumstances and the fact that the insult is directed at him, Janus struggles to stifle a laugh.

“And I assure you, I would have the greatest sympathy if you did,” he pauses again. “I cannot help you.”

Janus balls his hands into fists, his nails digging into the sensitive flesh of his palms. Somehow, he needs to send Snape the message. Right here, right now. But what if he rats them out? In Snape’s opinion, Umbridge is a toad who stole his dream job, so would he consider helping her? At all?

He decides he can’t risk keeping this information hidden.

“He’s got Padfoot!”

The other students tense around him, whether they understand his message, or if the abruptness of his voice startles them. And, unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to be amused at the befuddlement on Umbridge’s face as she processes his information.

Swallowing thickly, he continues. “He’s got Padfoot at the place where it’s hidden.”

Umbridge frowns, her eyes flicking between him and Snape’s back. “Padfoot? What is Padfoot?”

Becoming increasingly frustrated at her own apparent ineptitude, her chest heaves with shallow breaths of anger. “Where what is hidden? What is he talking about, Snape?”

Janus feels his lungs grow numb as Snape slowly turns around, his expression as vacant as ever. Though, if Janus were to allow himself hope, he thinks there may be a hint of understanding in the parted shape of Snape’s mouth.

“No idea.”

And he disappears. As if he’d never been there in the first place.

Janus frowns, turning reluctantly back to Umbridge as she paces the room, her voice suddenly low and monotonous. “Very well.”

“You give me no choice, Thornhill. As this is an issue of Ministry security… you leave me with no alternative.”

She taps her wand against the point of her chin, eyes narrowed. “The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue.”

Logan is quick to cut in, voice unsuccessfully trying to cover up his alarm with a more patronising tone.

“That’s illegal.”

With measured steps, Umbridge strides over to her desk and pushes the picture of Cornelius Fudge so that it’s facing down, smothering the minister’s non-existent cries against the wood. “What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Before she even gets the chance to lift her wand, Logan stops caring for his composure and heaves himself forward against the Slytherin holding him. “Tell her, Janus!”

Umbridge questions him, wand still in hand, as Logan meets his eyes. Janus, for what is surprisingly not the first time, can’t predict his motives. His next move. Logan is typically easy enough to understand, but Janus only watches as he offers to lead Umbridge to ‘Dumbledore’s weapon’.

And that’s how they end up entering the Forbidden Forest at a time when darkness reigns and company is no longer a choice.

It’s far too dark and, although Janus usually enjoys the cover of night, his pulse hammers in his ears, reminding him again of the cost of night and her cover. She can cover too much, if the situation call for it. For, she doesn’t answer to anyone.

The night suddenly reminds him a lot of Remus.

“How much further?” Umbridge asks, her wand pointed at their backs.

“Not far,” Logan says, suppressing a sigh. “It had to be hidden somewhere students wouldn’t accidentally find it. The results of such an event could be catastrophic.”

Patton twists the lapels of his robes, fingers trembling as he does so. Though, Janus isn’t convinced he’s shaking out of fear, as when their eyes meet, he can see the familiar shine of tenacity emphasising the brown of his eyes. Sensing the point of Umbridge’s wand directed at them leaves their communication at the eye contact.

As they walk, Janus sneaks glances over at Logan, analysing his body language and pondering the possibility of a secret weapon being hidden in the forest. He has a feeling this is an attempt at improvisation, one Roman would be quite proud of.

Abruptly, they come to a stop, Umbridge stalking around to stand in front of them, her wand still drawn. “There is no weapon, is there? You were trying to trick me!”

“You know,” she continues, taking agonisingly slow steps forward, “I really hate children.”

This fact isn’t surprising.

Fortunately, she’s interrupted by the sounds of rustling and footsteps. Shadows seem to dance through gaps between the branches until multiple figures stand proudly atop the hill before them. Centaurs.

Now, even Snape has bravely blocked them from danger at one point or another, despite his perpetual resentment of anything that isn’t related to Dumbledore or Slytherin. But Umbridge, she doesn’t even pretend to protect them. The three of them are left completely vulnerable as she hides to the side of them, her wand drawn and her expression twisted.

She swallows. “You have no business here, centaur. This is a Ministry manner.”

Janus wants to speak. He begs his brain to work with him, to stop freezing at every peak of tension. He’s better than this, that’s a fact known by most, so why has he been so… twitchy, lately? Is it her?

Words are exchanged. Warnings and insults and threats, until Umbridge throws the first punch. She flicks her wand and thick, dark ropes wrap themselves around the centaur in the middle, tightening until he’s choking and writhing on the ground.

Patton gasps, horrified. “Stop it! Please!”

He hurries to crouch beside the agonised creature, hands hesitating above its body as it twitches. From somewhere far away, he can hear Umbridge say something about ‘filthy animals’, but he continues his attempts to untie the ropes. He knows it will do nothing, of course he does. Sitting there and watching him die, however, is not an option.

“Stop it, please!” He cries. “You’re going to kill him!”

All at once, the writhing stops and the centaur is left wheezing as Patton leans over him. Janus forces his gaze away from the Gryffindor, watching dumbfound as Grawp, Hagrid’s half-brother, picks Umbridge up from where she’s standing. She screams. Janus stifles a grin.

But the centaurs don’t understand. They unleash hell upon him, throwing everything they have even though the woman in Grawp’s hands attempted to murder one of their own. Logan rushes up to them, waving his hands as Janus decides to follow.

“He doesn’t understand,” Logan yells, desperate to reclaim some amount of control, “it’s not his fault!”

Perhaps they believe him, or maybe they couldn’t care less about his sins, as the centaurs quickly grab at Umbridge. They hold even as she struggles, kicking and hurling her fists. She’s panting, her eyes wide as she looks between her students and her kidnappers.

“Do something, children! Tell them I mean no harm.”

There’s a phantom burning sensation on the back of Janus’ hand as he help Logan to his feet, as he had been knocked tot he ground on the skirmish, and he steadies himself. Mismatching eyes meeting blue, he takes a deep breath.

“Apologies, Professor,” he says. “But I must not tell lies.”

And, as she’d been known to do throughout her short time at Hogwarts, Umbridge screams and degrades and somehow manages condescend her kidnappers as she’s dragged away into the cover of night.

Janus turns to where Patton stands and sighs. He’s safe. _They’re_ safe.

Logan smiles timidly up at Grawp. “Thank you, Grawp. Be safe.”

As the night conceals the shameful abduction of an unethical headmistress, it allows them the cover to sprint headfirst into fate. Though, Janus doesn’t truly believe in such things.

Even so, as they hurry away, he offers the night a quick internal thank you.


End file.
